


The Feline Fiasco

by DarkestSight (Daylight)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Cat!Rip, Crack, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, RipFic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:18:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daylight/pseuds/DarkestSight
Summary: Thanks to the Legends, Rip finds himself in a rather unfortunate situation and much hilarity ensues.





	1. A Feline Problem

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a collection of all my Cat!Rip fics some of which have already been posted in my Random Scenes fic.

When Jax and Ray strode on to the bridge several minutes late for the team’s post-mission debriefing, they were greeted by two surprises.

The first was the conspicuous absence of their captain. Considering it was Rip who insisted on having these debriefings in the first place and who lectured anyone and everyone that was late or failed to attend, this was very odd. The rest of the team were all there however, Martin looking rather worried, Sara looking rather annoyed, and Mick looking, rather disturbingly, amused.

The second surprise to greet them as they entered the bridge, and the more startling of the two, was an unexpected new arrival seated on the console in the middle of the room.

Eyebrows lifted as high as they could go, Jax said, “Uh, guys. What’s a cat doing in here?”

“Oh, hey, how cute,” said Ray in turn. “Can I pet him?”

The cat, an orange tabby, turned to look at them, the end of its tail twitching.

Mick snorted. “Sure, go ahead,” he said with a smirk.

Grinning, Ray took a step forward.

Sara held up a hand halting Ray’s progress towards the cat. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

Ray’s shoulders slumped, his whole body sagging in disappointment.

Still gazing at the tabby, Jax shook his head. “You do know Rip’s going to blow a gasket when he finds out about this.”

“I can assure you, Jefferson,” said Martin, “the captain is well aware of the situation.”

“And he’s okay with it?” said Jax, disbelievingly.

The cat narrowed its eyes, its tail swishing back and forth.

Mick’s smirk grew larger. “I’d say he’s pretty pissed off.”

“Are you sure I can’t pet him?” asked Ray, taking another hopeful step towards the cat. “I’ve always been pretty good with cats. I mean I haven’t been able to spend that much time around them because of my allergies but the ones I’ve met always seemed to like me.”

Sara sighed rubbing a hand across her forehead. “Ray, that’s not a cat.”

More than a little perplexed, Ray said, “Um, I think I know a cat when I see one.”

“Yeah,” said Jax. “Fur, four paws, whiskers, a tail. That’s a cat.”

“Just look at it,” said Sara. “Really look.”

Still confused, the two obeyed gazing at the cat.

The cat gazed back at them, the disgruntled look of exasperation on its face all too familiar.

“Oh, my God,” said Ray, taking a step back. “That’s… that’s…”

“No way,” said Jax, his eyes widening. “Please tell me that’s not who I think it is.”

“That’s… that’s Rip!” Ray exclaimed, finally getting the words out.

“Yup,” said Sara, wearily nodding her head.

Ray stared at the cat in astonishment. “But how….?”

Feeling an unexpected flare of guilt, Jax narrowed his eyes at Martin. “Grey?”

The professor winced slightly. “Yes?” he said, trying and failing to look innocent.

Jax rolled his eyes. “What did you do this time?”

“What makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

Jax gave him a pointed look.

“I, uh…” Martin swallowed, his guilt now obvious to even those without a psychic connection to him. “Well, you recall how the time pirate we took care of had that large collection of stolen items?”

“Yeah,” said Jax, circling his hand in the air as he prompted Martin to continue. “And?”

“Well,” Martin continued, reluctantly, “the captain and I were going through them trying to determine if any of them needed returning to their proper places. The time pirate had quite a few interesting items in that collection, items from all across the timeline, and one of them happened to be a bronze statue of a cat. I was merely examining it. There was no way I could have possibly known it was a mystical artifact or that my examinations would inadvertently… uh… activate it.”

“You turned Rip into a cat?” Ray said in disbelief.

“Accidentally,” insisted Martin.

Sara held up her hands. “Placing blame isn’t going to help us,” she said. “What we need to decide is what to do next.”

“Buy a litter box?” Mick suggested.

Sara gave him a look.

“What?” said Mick with a shrug. “I like him better this way.” He took a step towards Rip, arm outstretched reaching to scratch the cat under the chin. “Who’s a cute kitty witty.”

Eyes narrowing even further, the cat hunched its shoulders and let out a low growl, its tail beating against the console.

Mick wisely backed off though the smirk never left his face.

“So, that’s really Rip in there?” said Jax, gazing curiously at the cat. “I mean that’s his mind in that body and he actually knows what’s going on.”

“Based on his reaction to Mick, I’d say yes,” said Sara.

“Mmrrow,” said the cat, a noise part yowl and part growl.

Ray leaned closer to the cat. “I wonder what he’s trying to tell us.”

“He said ‘Will you please stop this pointless prattling and concentrate on figuring out a way to turn me back,’” said Gideon, the A.I.’s voice making them all gaze up at the ceiling in surprise.

“You speak cat?” said Martin, incredulously.

“I do not,” said Gideon.

Ray frowned. “Then how do you know what he said?”

“He’s my captain,” was Gideon’s only response.

Sara raised her eyebrows. “Okayyyy,” she said. “Putting that aside for now, what do you think we should do?” she asked addressing Rip.

“Mrow,” said the cat.

“Perhaps you could start by researching the statue that caused this mess in the first place,” Gideon translated for him.

“You think it might be able to turn you back?” asked Martin.

“Yowl!” Rip cried.

“How the hell should I know I’m a bloody cat,” said Gideon, her pleasant tone a complete contrast to the words she was speaking.

“Boy,” said Jax. “Rip sure is one grumpy cat.”

“Oh, Grumpy Cat,” said Ray, grinning, a dopey look in his eyes.

“Now that’s a cat,” said Mick, waving a finger in the air.

“Guys,” said Sara in exasperation, trying to bring their attention back to the matter at hand. “Rip’s right. We need to focus on fixing this. Ray, Martin, why don’t you start researching the statue. If that doesn’t work, I know a guy back in 2016 who might be able to help out.”

“Meowl,” said Rip, forlornly.

“Please tell me you’re not talking about John Constantine,” Gideon provided.

Sara put her hands on her hips. “Yes, John Constantine. Is that going to be a problem?”

The cat just glared at her.

“Don’t give me that look,” Sara said, sternly. “If it’s his help you need, then it’s his help we’re going to get. Do you want to stay a cat forever?”

Rip hung his head, looking completely miserable.

Sara’s expression softened. Stepping forward, she reached out and plucked the dejected cat off the console.

Rip’s eyes went wide with panic as his legs dangled comically in the air. When Sara brought him close to her chest and cradled him in her arms, he settled down somewhat though he still looked thoroughly offended by her actions.

Smiling, Sara lightly stroked the cat’s head and scratched him behind the ears. “Don’t worry, Rip. I’m sure we’ll have you back to normal in no time.”

“No fair,” said Ray, pouting. “How come you get to pet him?”

Cocking her head to the side, Sara gave him a smug smirk.

The sound of an electronic shutter interrupted them and everyone turned towards the source.

Jax, his phone still pointed at Sara and Rip, shrugged. “You know Kendra’s always complaining we don’t send her enough pictures.”

“That’s true,” agreed Martin. “And this is unprecedented. It would be wise to uh… document the phenomenon while we still have the chance.”

“Don’t forget to send me copies, kid,” said Mick.

Ray quickly added, “And me.”

From Sara’s arms, Rip the cat glared at them letting out another low growl.

“Oh, shush,” said Sara and she started scratching him behind the ears once more.

Rip managed to maintain his angry glare for another second or two but it soon fell away, his eyes closing as the tension left him and his body unwillingly melted under Sara’s gentle touch.

Grinning, Jax took several more photos while very quietly Rip began to purr.


	2. Lost: One Cat. Answers to Rip.

Jax entered the Waverider’s library just in time to see Professor Stein throw a large book across the room. The leather-bound tome hit the screen on the opposite wall with a loud thud before tumbling to the ground.

“You know that book was an antique and probably worth quite a bit of money,” Jax said, raising his eyebrows.

Looking up from the desk where he sat, Stein glowered at him. “Be that as it may, I currently have rather more pressing concerns than the book’s resale value,” he snapped; then he sighed and ran a hand through his white hair. “I’m sorry, Jefferson. I afraid I am somewhat frustrated at the moment.”

“That’s an understatement. I could feel your frustration all the way down in the engine room.” Jax walked up to the desk and leaned against it gazing at the scattered notes and books which covered the surface. “I take it the search for a cure to Rip’s little feline problem isn’t going so well.”

“To put it mildly,” Martin said, wryly. “The statue is clearly ancient Egyptian, from around 300 BC if I could hazard a guess, and was most likely dedicated to the cat goddess Bastet but other than that I know nothing. I’m a scientist. I barely even believe in magic. I know nothing about ancient Egyptian spellwork or any other spellwork for that matter. Merlin, I most certainly am not.”

“You’re not even Harry Potter,” Jax said with a smirk.

Martin frowned. “Who?”

Jax gave him a disbelieving look. “Are you seriously saying you don’t know…?” He stopped and shook his head. “You know what never mind.”

“The point is," Martin continued, "I am way out of my depths.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Jax, placing a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “This is why Sara’s trying to track down an expert, remember? Even if we did find a spell to turn Rip back, if any of us tried to use it, we’d probably end up turning the rest of us into cats too.”

Martin nodded. “That is a distinct possibility."

Glancing around the room, Jax added, “Where’s Rip anyway? I thought he was going to be helping you.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately it’s rather difficult to do research when you can’t even turn the page in a book,” Martin said as he gazed back down at his scribbled notes. “I’ve left him in the care of Dr. Palmer and Mr. Rory.”

Jax stared at him. “You left Rip with Ray and Mick?”

Martin waved his hand dismissively. “I know, even as a cat, Captain Hunter can probably take care of himself but I was concerned about there being more possible side effects from the spell so I thought it best someone keep an eye on him.”

“Let me just get this clear,” said Jax, leaning closer and giving Martin a pointed look. “You left Rip with Ray and Mick?”

Martin’s eyes suddenly widened, realization dawning on his face. “Oh, my God. What have I done?” He pushed his chair back and stood up. “Maybe we should go check on them, uh, just to be on the safe side.”

Jax nodded. “Yeah, I think that might be a good idea.”

With Gideon’s help, they were able to locate both Ray and Mick in the galley though when they entered they saw only one of them. There was also no sign of any cat.

“Ah, Mr. Rory,” said Martin upon seeing the former criminal.

“What’s up, Professor?” said Mick who was busy rummaging through the cupboards. As they watched, he opened the oven too and peered inside.

“Where’s–” Jax began, looking about the room, but he was interrupted by the sound of a loud thud followed by an even louder cry of pain.

They turned towards the location of the noise and saw Ray crawl out from under one of the tables grimacing and rubbing his head.

Ray’s eyes widened when he spotted Martin and Jax. “Oh. Hi, guys,” he said, a nervous smile appearing on his face.

“Raymond,” said Martin, gazing sternly at him. “I came to see how the Captain is faring. Where is he?”

“He’s, uh…” Ray got rather clumsily to his feet knocking over a chair in the process. “He’s… um…” He bent over and righted the chair before straightening up once more. “Well…”

“Ray,” said Jax, warningly.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Ray confessed.

“What do you mean you’re not sure?” Jax demanded. “Where’s Rip?”

“Haircut drove him away and now he can’t find him,” said Mick, who, having given up on his search, was now busy fabricating himself a beer.

Ray winced guiltily. “I didn’t mean to. I just thought he might be hungry. You know Rip’s pretty skinny even as a cat and I thought it would be best to make sure his new body got the proper nutrition so I fabricated what I thought would be the most appropriate.”

“Kibble,” Mick said as he grabbed his newly fabricated beer and popped the top off the bottle with his thumb. “The idiot tried to feed the Englishman kibble.”

Jax groaned and ran a hand across his face.

“Well, you’re the one who kept waving that shoelace at him trying to get him to play with it,” Ray shot back at Mick.

Taking a sip of his beer, Mick shrugged unapologetically. “At least, I didn’t keep trying to pet him.”

“He likes being petted,” Ray protested.

“Not when you sneeze all over him.”

“I can’t help my allergies.”

“Gentlemen,” said Martin, holding up a hand. “This is not helping. It’s imperative we find the captain as soon as possible. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

Ray looked downcast. “I’ve got no clue. He could be hiding anywhere. He’s even small enough to fit inside some of the ship’s duct system now.

Jax shook his head. “You’d better hope Sara doesn’t find out about this.”

With sitcom level timing, Sara's voice called out from the galley’s entrance. “Find out about what?”

They turned to see her standing in the doorway, hands on her hips as she gazed expectantly at them.

Ray paled looking like he would very much like to bolt out the door. “Hey, Sara,” he said, his strangled voice almost a whole octave higher than normal. “Um, we seem to have a bit of a problem.”

Sara’s intense gaze turned on him. “What sort of problem?”

Ray visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Jax decided to put him out of his misery. “Ray and Mick managed to piss off Rip so he took off and now we can’t find him.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” she said. “You’re lucky he didn’t decide to try his new claws out on you. I suppose we’ll just have to wait until he calms down and comes out of hiding.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Martin said, gesturing agitatedly. “I’ve been reading up on these sort of spells and it’s possible his condition might degenerate even further.”

“Meaning what?” asked Sara, frowning.

“Meaning,” Martin continued, “that though right now we are dealing with Rip’s mind and memories inside a cat’s body, he may slowly start to become more and more like a cat, to forget who he is or that he was ever human.”

“So,” Sara said, slowly, “this might not actually be Rip off in a huff somewhere but an actual scared cat hiding who knows where inside the ship.”

“Exactly,” Martin replied, glumly.

Sara closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as she muttered several curses under her breath. “Fine,” she said when she was done. “We need to search the ship top to bottom and find our cat, I mean our captain.”

“Maybe Gideon knows,” suggested Ray, his face lighting up with hope.

Everyone gazed expectantly up at the ceiling.

After a moment’s pause, the A.I. said, “I’m afraid my scanners were not calibrated to locate feline life signs.”

There were several groans in response.

Jax narrowed his eyes thoughtfully but made no comment.

“So we do this the hard way,” said Sara. “Everyone spread out and start searching.”

The team left with various amounts of enthusiasm, Mick only after fabricating himself a second beer.

On his way out, Ray began calling, “Here, Rip! Here, kitty kitty kitty!”

Sara slapped his arm. “Not helping.”

“Honestly, Raymond, do you really think that’s wise?” said Martin.

“Couldn’t hurt,” said Mick. “Here, kitty kitty kitty!”

None of them noticed as they ventured out into the rest of the ship that Jax stayed behind.

When he was sure the rest of the team was out of earshot, he gazed up at the ceiling and said, “Gideon?”

“Yes, Mr. Jackson?” Gideon replied.

“You know those sensors of yours are pretty damn good.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Jackson.”

Pursing his lips, Jax folded his arms over his chest. “They're so good that if you wanted to, I don’t know, recalibrate them to pick up feline life signs, which you could easily do yourself by the way, it should only take a second or two.”

There was no response from the A.I.

“Not that you’d need to,” he continued. “I’m sure you have ways of keeping track of Rip whatever shape he’s in and I’m pretty sure you’d never let him out of your sight especially when he happens to be a cat. You get what I’m trying to say here?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Gideon, defensively.

Unfolding his arms, Jax placed his hands on his hips. “Come on, Gideon. Cough it up. You know exactly where Rip is so where is he? And no more lying.”

“I am incapable of lying,” Gideon insisted.

Jax rolled his eyes. “Of course, not. You just avoid telling the truth when you don’t want to.”

“Are you suggesting I am keeping things from the crew?”

“I’m suggesting,” said Jax, eyebrows raised pointedly, “that you are an A.I. who is too smart for her own good and who is willing to do whatever it takes to protect her captain.”

Gideon seemed to relent somewhat and her voice lost some of its defensiveness. “I merely thought it would be in the captain’s best interest if he were not disturbed,” she explained. “The events of the day have been rather stressful and the actions of the others do not appear to be… very helpful.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jax said with a snort. “If I promise not to disturb him, will you tell me where he is?”

Gideon was silent once more.

“I just want to check to make sure he’s ok,” Jax insisted.

There was another pause before Gideon declared, “Very well.”

Under Gideon’s guidance, Jax made his way through the ship. He was surprised when she led him up to the bridge and into Rip’s parlour.

Standing by the entrance, he gazed around but saw no sign of the cat.

“Gideon, I don’t–” he began but the A.I. interrupted him.

“Please lower your volume, Mr. Jackson,” she said, her own voice much quieter than usual.

“Sorry,” said Jax, more softly, “but where’s–”

She told him.

Jax’s eye widened. “Seriously?”

Taking the chair from Rip’s deck, Jax placed it beside the large cupboard at the side of the room and stepped onto it. Stretching up onto his toes, he was just able to see the top.

There, nestled behind a pair of odd looking helmets, curled up into a stripey orange ball, was Rip contentedly sleeping away, his sides slowly rising and falling as he dozed.

“How the hell did you get up there?” Jax said, whispering so as not to disturb the sleeping cat.

As he watched, Rip shifted in his sleep placing a paw over his nose.

Jax bit his lip resisting the sudden urge to giggle. Quietly, he climbed down off the chair and put it away.

“The others are never going to believe this,” he said, grinning.

“Are you going to inform them of the captain’s whereabouts?” asked Gideon.

Echoing down the corridor from the depths of the ship came the sound of someone calling “Here, kitty kitty kitty.”

Jax smirked. “Eventually,” he said. “For now, I think you had the right idea. Let’s let sleeping cats lie. I’m sure Rip could use the rest.”

On top of the cupboard, Rip Hunter, once Time Master and now cat, let out a tiny snore.


	3. The Trouble with Catnip

Ray stood in the Waverider’s library staring up at a bookcase, his eyes large and pleading.

“Rip?” he called out hopefully.

He wrung his hands together, shifted from foot to foot, and tried again.

“Come on, Rip. Please?”

His lips twisted into what was meant to be a smile but came out more like a grimace.

“Pretty please?”

From the top shelf of the bookcase, beside a painted urn and several large volumes bound in leather, a long, stripey tail hung down. It swung violently back and forth.

“I said I was sorry,” Ray continued in the same pleading tone as before. “Please come down.”

There was no response other than the swishing of the tail.

“Look, I know you’re upset.”

The tail gave an extra hard swing as if in agreement.

“Which is understandable,” Ray conceded. “But how was I supposed to know you’d react that way to catnip?”

The tail vanished and an orange nose appeared over the side of the shelf accompanied by a pair of green eyes which glared at Ray.

Ray winced. “OK, so I admit listening to Mick was a bad idea.”

There was a low rumbling growl in reply.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure no one will remember what happened.”

The green eyes narrowed.

“Really,” insisted Ray, doing his best to sound reassuring, “it’ll be forgotten in no time. I mean who’s going to remember you rolling around in the stuff then tearing madly around the ship breaking all those… uh… and ending up in…” Ray trailed off as the cat turned his back on him so all Ray could see was the tail once more. “Rip?”

The tail swished at him.

Ray’s shoulders slumped. “Please, Rip, will you just come down. Sara will kill me if she finds out I drove you up there.”

The tail continued flicking back and forth.

“I promise if you come down, they’ll be no more cat food, no more cat toys, no more ‘cat got your tongue’ jokes.” Ray gazed at the tail searching for some sign his words were having an effect. “At least, from me. Mick’s a whole other story.”

The swishing slowed until only the end of the tail was twitching.

Taking that as encouragement, Ray grinned and said, “You come down and we can pretend all of this never happened. Everything can go back to normal. Well, sort of.”

The tail stopped moving completely but Rip made no move to come down off the bookcase.

Ray’s forehead creased as a thought suddenly occured to him. “You can get down, right? You’re not stuck up there.”

“Yowl!” With one final swish, the tail vanished onto the shelf leaving no indication there was even a cat up there.

“Um, Rip?” said Ray, uncertainly. “Was that a yes or a no? Gideon, a little help please.”

There was no response from the A.I.

“Gideon?”

The A.I. remained silent.

“Wonderful,” said Ray. “Gideon’s mad at me too.”

Ray gave one more forlorn look at the top of the bookcase.

“Rip?”

Silence was his only answer.

He hung his head. “Great job, Raymond.”

Turning around, he sank down onto the floor until he was sitting with his back against the bookcase.

“Really, great job,” he continued, grumbling to himself. “First you go and get all annoyingly obsessive about petting Rip because he’s a cat and you can’t stop thinking about how much you really like cats and were never allowed to have one as a kid because of your stupid allergies; then you manage to piss him off because you thought trying to feed him actual cat food was a good idea; and then you decide to give him catnip because Mick thought it would be funny and you thought it might help him relax and stop worrying about the whole being turned into a cat thing, and it, of course, ends up being the major fiasco to end all major fiascos. Now, one of your friends is so angry he won’t talk to you, another one, who happens to carry a fair number of knives about her person, will soon be equally pissed off, and you’ve even managed to anger the A.I. whom among others things controls the temperature of your shower and how much oxygen you breathe. Great, just great.”

He let out a long, world-weary sigh.

“Human disaster, thy name is Raymond Palmer.”

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“Should’ve stayed back in Star City. No, I should have stayed in that prison Darhk had me in. You can’t cause problems for people if you’re tiny and locked up in a glass box.”

He sniffed and rubbed his nose. Something soft brushed against his arm. He automatically reached down to stroke it.

“Maybe I should lock myself in my quarters for a month or two. Hopefully by then Sara will no longer want to kill me, Gideon will have stopped giving me cold showers, and someone will have managed to coax Rip down from…”

Ray trailed off as his brain finally caught up with what his body was doing. He turned and gazed wide-eyed at the cat he’d been stroking.

“Rip? When did you come down? For that matter, how did you get down?”

Making an odd chirping noise, the orange tabby placed his front paws on Ray’s leg and stretched out inquisitively towards him.

“Captain Hunter was wondering if you were alright,” Gideon translated for the cat having apparently relented on her silent treatment.

“Me?” Ray gave another sniff unsure whether to attribute it to his allergies or not. “Oh, I’m fine, fine. Fine and dandy, yup, that’s me.” He forced a grin onto his face but was only able to hold it a couple seconds before it fell away and his whole body sagged. “Ok, so I’m not fine. I guess I’ve been feeling a bit useless and pathetic recently. It seems like no matter what I do I keep screwing up and making things worse. Sometimes I don’t know why you bothered recruiting me in the first place.”

Grimacing, he gazed down at the floor. A soft head butted against his cheek. He looked back up and found himself gazing into Rip’s intense green eyes.

“Mrrow,” the cat said, emphatically.

Gideon immediately provided a translation. “You are not useless or pathetic. You are an important member of this team, and not just because of your suit and your intellectual prowess, but because of your heart, because of the light you bring when we are at our darkest. It doesn’t matter if you screw up. Everyone on this team screws up. They’re brilliant at it. What matters is that you care about the team and are always there for the us.”

“Wow.” Ray stared at Rip in wide-eyed amazement. “He really said all that.”

“I may have added a few things,” Gideon admitted, “but you can be certain he believes every word.”

A wide smile spread across Ray’s face. “Thanks, Rip. You too, Gideon. I really needed that.”

Reaching out, Ray began scratching Rip behind the ear.

Rip looked slightly offended at first as if convinced he was above such things but soon his eyes closed and he began to purr.

“I guess you must be feeling pretty useless too what with being a cat and all.”

Rip gave a meow in agreement.

“Don’t worry. We’ll soon have you back to your normal self.”

Moving on from scratching to stroking, Ray ran a hand along the soft fur of Rip’s back.

“I’ve got to say though,” he added, “you sure are a lot cuddlier as a cat.”

Ray was very glad Rip kept his claws retracted as the paw came up and swatted his nose.


	4. Cat!Rip to the Rescue

Everything was peaceful on the Waverider as it drifted through the temporal zone. For once, the corridors of the ship were quiet. There was none of the usual chatter or ruckus. The ship’s crew were all fast asleep in their rooms. No one was suffering from insomnia. No one was troubled by nightmares. No one was up getting a midnight snack.

So no one was around to notice the other ship creeping up on them through the green swirling energies of the time stream.

No one but Gideon, that is, and she only had a few seconds to contemplate the odd readings coming from the sensors and wonder whether it was worth troubling the team about before a blast hit the ship and all her systems went down.

And then there truly was no one, no one to see as the other ship drew closer…

The tremor which shook the Waverider was so strong it knocked Rip right out of his bed.

As he fell, he instinctively twisted his body around in mid-air and managed to land safely on the ground on all four paws.

Paws.

Rip’s whiskers drooped.

So, he thought glumly, still a cat.

He shook his head trying to rid himself of the last vestiges of sleep and then looked around wondering what had woken him. There had been a jolt. He remembered that, but as he had been asleep at the time, he wasn’t entirely sure if it had been real or just a very strange dream. Strange dreams had become a common occurrence since he had been turned into a cat.

He had been sleeping on his bed in his quarters because the team had insisted on it. As a cat, he had come to enjoy napping in various places on the ship, this new body of his needing more sleep than his normal one, but the team were tired of losing track of him and finding him napping in odd locations, odd locations such as beneath the engines (they were nice and warm) or on the pilot’s chair (it was one of his favourite spots on the ship after all) or on top the bookcases in the library (what better way to keep an eye on the rest of the team) or in the laundry basket with everyone’s laundry (it smelled nice but he wasn’t going to tell them that).

Martin had expressed concern that the longer Rip was in a cat’s body, the more he seemed to be acting like a real cat. Rip, of course, thought this was preposterous. He wanted to be returned to normal as soon as possible but he was still himself even if he did currently look like cat. He honestly had no idea what Martin was talking about.

Feeling a sudden itch behind his ear, Rip sat on his rear and used his back leg to scratch it.

No idea. Martin was clearly mistaken.

Rip sniffed the air and his eyes narrowed.

Something wasn’t right.

The only light currently on in his quarters was a small bedside lamp but it was more than enough for Rip to see with. There was nothing there but… Rip’s eyes widened as he suddenly realized what the problem was. It wasn’t the presence of something but the absence. The vibration of the ship’s engines, a vibration he knew so well it would forever echo deep in his bones, had stopped.

“Gideon?” Rip said. The word sounded perfectly normal in his head but came out as an inquiring mew.

There was no response from the A.I.

This worried Rip even more. He quickly trotted over to the door but it failed to open. Gideon had been helpfully opening all the doors for him while he was a cat but it seemed he would have to deal with this one the hard way.

Eyeing the glowing switch beside the door, Rip crouched down and leapt.

He missed.

He tried again and missed a second time, almost going head-first into the wall.

Cursing to himself, Rip paced back and forth in front of the door, his eyes fixed on the loathsome switch. He was getting really sick of being a cat. He missed having enough height to actually reach things, not to mention opposable thumbs. Crouching down once more, he wiggled his butt back and worth as he adjusted his footing, and then he leapt into the air.

This time he hit the switch and the doors opened with a swoosh.

Cautiously, Rip peered out into the corridor. It was dark and empty, the red emergency lights the only source of illumination. Another bad sign. That meant not only were Gideon and the engines down but all the primary systems. He sniffed the air again and caught a whiff of something, something that shouldn’t be there, or rather someone, several someones.

There were intruders on the Waverider.

Rip’s shoulders hunched and his ears flattened back on his head, a low growl rumbling deep in his throat. He didn’t know who these intruders were or how the hell they had got on his ship but he had a feeling they were the ones responsible for Gideon being down.

The sound of a commotion drifted down the corridor and Rip’s ears pricked back up swivelling in its direction. It seemed to be coming from the bridge. Scuffling and thumping were involved along with the voices of several members of the team. Rip couldn’t make out what they were saying but they didn’t sound happy.

Body stooped low, Rip slunk slowly along the corridor towards the source of the noise. It had been disorienting at first, seeing the ship from this angle so close to the floor, but he was used to it by now and had grown quite adept at sneaking through the ship. No one else was to be seen as he made his way to the bridge and the commotion died down as he drew nearer. Peering into the room, he was able to see why.

The fight was already over and the Legends had not been the winners.

A group of time pirates were currently holding the team hostage. They were a rough looking bunch dressed in dark leathers from various periods in history accompanied by a similar mishmash of weaponry. The jolt Rip had felt must have been their ship docking with the Waverider. Apparently, they had gotten their hands on some fairly advanced technology. They would have needed it in order to sneak up on them like this, not to mention take down Gideon.

The Legends, still in their sleepwear, had clearly been taken unawares and were now being held at gunpoint or, in Sara and Mick’s case, being held bodily by several of the more muscle-bound pirates. Ray was without his suit, Jax and Martin hadn’t had the chance to merge into Firestorm, and among them only Sara and Mick seemed to have had the opportunity, or the foresight, to grab weapons. Evidence of Sara and Mick’s handiwork was visible on several of the pirates who were groaning or unconscious on the floor.

“So,” said one of the pirates, a short Asian woman with olive skin and short spiky hair. Rip could tell by the authority and arrogance she bore that she had to be the captain. “I’ll ask again where is Captain Rip Hunter?”

The Legends exchanged looks but said nothing.

If it was possible for a cat to wince, Rip would have. Sometimes it didn’t pay to have a reputation. This wouldn’t be the first time a pirate had tried to make a name for themselves by taking him down. The only difference was now his friends were caught in the crossfire.

The pirate captain shook her head, a look of mock sadness on her face. “This would really be much easier if you just told us what we want to know. We are going to find him eventually and if you tell us beforehand we’ll, well, we won’t let you go but we won’t kill you. I mean we will be taking your ship so we’ll probably put you in the jumpship and set you adrift without a time engine so you’ll die of starvation eventually but that’s better than being shot right here and now, isn’t it?”

Believe it or not, this time pirate was actually one of the saner ones Rip had encountered.

Sara shot one of her best fiery glares at the pirate captain. “You’re not taking our captain or our ship.”

“We’ll see,” the pirate replied. “I suppose I’ll just have to start shooting people until one of you talks. So very tiresome.”

Rip’s eyes narrowed and he only just managed to resist the urge to let out another growl.

Knowing he had to do something and soon, he crept closer, eyes circling the room searching for some way to get the team out of this. Ideally, he would like to get Gideon back online. It would be so much easier with her help but he didn’t have the time or the fingers needed.

Mick’s heat gun lay on the floor not too far from its owner. Rip was able to spot a couple of Sara’s knives as well. If they could just get to them… He was sure the team was more than a match for these pirates. They just needed an opportunity, a distraction.

Rip suddenly knew what he had to do. The very idea made his tail lash back and forth but he didn’t have a choice, not if he wanted to save the team.

Tail held high, Rip casually sauntered into the room weaving through the legs of the pirates. None of them even noticed, not until he jumped onto the main console in the middle of the room that is, and then he had to force himself not to react as several guns were turned in his direction.

The pirate captain stared at him in surprise. “You have a cat?”

“Yes, yes,” Sara replied stumbling slightly over her words. “We have a cat. What of it?”

The Legends were doing their best to hide their reactions to his sudden arrival but after all the time they had spent together, Rip had learned to read them fairly well and was able to catch the looks of concern and confusion. Clearly, they were all wondering what the hell he was doing.

Rip walked over to the edge of the console nearest the pirate captain, sat down, and gazed up at her expectantly.

The pirate’s eyebrows knit together as she frowned. “You don’t seem the type.”

“He’s our mascot,” Jax quickly explained.

“Yeah,” Ray agreed not quite managing to hide his nervousness. “I mean having a ship’s cat is traditional.”

“And… and we thought it would be good for morale,” Martin put in with a wavering smile.

“Not my idea,” was Mick’s stone-faced addition.

Rip resisted the urge to send them a glare. They were laying it on a bit thick.

The pirate captain reached out a hand and Rip made a show of sniffing and rubbing against it.

“He is quite cute,” the pirate said as she scratched him behind the ear.

Rip stood up and walked back and forth as she stroked her hand along his back. He also began to purr loudly hamming it up as much as he could.

Sara’s cleared throat and Jax’s cough barely managed to cover their laughter. Thankfully, none of the pirates noticed.

God, they were never going to let him live this down, Rip thought as he did his best to keep up the act.

The pirate captain smiled, and for a moment, she almost looked pleasant. “You know I think we’ll keep him. We could use a mascot. What do you say, boys?”

“Aye!” the other pirates cried raising their fists in air.

This was the moment. Rip had to act now. Whipping his head around, he sunk his teeth into the hand that had just been stroking him.

The pirate captain let out a shrill cry as she yanked her hand away. “Why you…”

All of the pirates’ attention was on Rip. This was the Legends’ chance and they didn’t waste it.

Ray grabbed the laser rifle of the nearest pirate and yanked it out of his hand while Jax knocked out the pirate closest to him and ran towards Martin. Martin, ducking and weaving, ran to meet him halfway and there was a bright flash of light as they merged into Firestorm. Sara slipped out of her captors’ grips easily and neatly knocked both of them out. Mick simply threw his captors right off him and dove for his heat gun. He grinned with delight as he grabbed ahold of it and took aim.

Before the time pirates even realized what was happening, they were in the middle of an all out melee.

“Stop them!” the pirate captain yelled aiming at the Legends with her own laser rifle but Rip took the opportunity to leap at her, teeth and claws bared. He landed on her shoulder and clung on, scratching and biting.

The noise of the fight surrounded him but Rip lost track of what was happening as he concentrated on letting loose his new animal side. The pirate captain in turn did her best to shake him off, swinging her body around and striking at him, but he determinedly held on. Finally, the pirate grabbed him by the scruff and ripped him right off her, Rip’s claws leaving long red streaks behind.

“You little demon,” she spat as she held him at arms length.

Dangling uncomfortably from his scruff, Rip hissed back.

The pirate lifted her laser rifle and held it only inches from Rip’s face. “Fine, I guess we’ll just shoot everyone starting with the beloved mascot.”

Rip had a moment to realize just how small and helpless he currently was before a large form stepped up behind the pirate captain.

“Let go of our cat,” said Mick, his heat gun aimed at the pirate’s head.

Gazing about them, Rip and the pirate captain discovered the fight was over. All the other pirates were lying on the floor either unconscious or dead and the Legends had them surrounded. Ray had his stolen rifle pointed at the pirate captain, Jax had his arms folded across his chest as the fire surrounding him flared brightly, and Sara had a knife in each hand, the look in her eyes equally sharp.

“Put him down,” she said, “and maybe we’ll be as kind to you as you promised to be to us, maybe.”

The pirate captain’s eyes darted from one member of the team to another; then making a decision, she took Rip and flung him at Mick.

The breathless flight through the air lasted barely a second before Rip slammed into the pyromaniac. In the panic and confusion, Rip’s feline instincts kicked in making him want to sink his claws into Mick and hang on but he fought against it. Thankfully, Mick managed wrap his arms around Rip and keep him from falling. Unfortunately, he had to drop his heat gun to do so.

The pirate captain didn’t wait to see what happened. She bolted in the direction of the exit and Ray who was standing in her way. She had obviously assumed Ray to be the weakest link and the most easiest to get past. She had failed to count on just how mad she had made the team.

The blast from Ray’s rifle struck the pirate the same moment as one of Sara’s knives. The pirate captain went down without a sound.

Still in Mick’s arms, Rip was only peripherally aware of this. His heart was beating wildly from his narrow escape, his ruffled fur standing on end. Mick stroked a hand along his back and Rip slowly began to calm down.

“Well, that was fun,” said Sara, tiredly wiping a hand across her forehead. “Everyone okay?” 

Much to Rip’s relief all the responses were positive.

“Rip?” Sara questioned turning to him.

Rip gave an affirmative meow. There was no Gideon to translate but Sara seemed to get the gist.

Gazing at Mick, Ray gave a wide grin. “Aww, I knew you liked him.”

Mick, who was still stroking Rip, suddenly realized what he was doing and quickly stopped. “Shut up, Haircut,” he said, scowling.

Martin’s eyes twinkled with amusement and Jax held a hand in front of his mouth to hide his laughter

Mick shot them a look which quickly quelled any mirth. “Stupid cat,” he grumbled, handing Rip over to Sara. “Idiot could have got himself killed.”

“Actually, I think what he did was pretty smart,” said Sara as she cradled Rip in her arms and scratched him behind the ear. “Maybe we should leave you as a cat. You’re proving to be very useful.”

Rip dug his claws into Sara’s arm.

“Ow,” she exclaimed. “I was joking. I was joking.” When he didn’t stop, she drew out one of her knives and waved it in front of him. “You want to see how fast I can neuter you?”

Though he knew she didn’t mean it, Rip quickly retracted his claws. Strangely, he didn’t mind the threat. He didn’t even mind the fact she stroked him as if he were a real cat or that the team started bickering loudly and pointlessly over how they were going to deal with the pirates.

Rip was just glad his ship and his team were safe once more.


	5. With a Little Help from a Warlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter guest stars John Constantine which means the next episode will immediately contradict it but I swear I had this idea long before we even knew Constantine was going to be on the show (which shows just how long it takes for me to actually finish something)
> 
> This is also possibly the final chapter. It all depends on whether or not I get anymore ideas for Cat!Rip shenanigans.

Tracking down John Constantine had proven easier than Sara had expected. She had assumed she would need to contact Oliver and get his help to locate his old friend, but it turned out Rip himself knew where Constantine lived though it had taken him awhile to admit it. He still remained mum on exactly how he had come by that information.

Currently riding on Sara’s shoulder, Rip gave a discontented noise as he gazed narrow-eyed at the old mill house that was Constantine’s residence.

“Oh, shush,” Sara told the cat. “You know we don’t have much choice. It’s not like we’ve got a whole bunch of sorcerers to choose from, not good ones anyway.”

Rip hunched his shoulders and scowled.

“And no sulking.” After several weeks of Rip being a cat, Sara was starting to learn how to read him though she doubted she would ever be anywhere as good as Gideon. “Do you want to stay a cat forever?”

Rip gave a noise that was half growl and half whine, and then settled down once more.

Martin spoke up, he and the rest of the team having insisted on accompanying Rip and Sara on this final attempt to restore Rip to normal. “I have to agree with the cat, uh, I mean the captain. Are we sure we can trust this man?”

“Yeah,” agreed Ray. “I read some of Gideon’s files on him and not all of it’s good. I mean who calls themselves a Master of the Dark Arts anyway?”

“He saved my life and Oliver trusts him. That’s good enough for me,” said Sara.

“Besides,” Jax put in, “we kind of suck at magic.”

Ray pouted sullenly. “Hey, I managed to change that paperweight into a pear, didn’t I? I mean it was kind of oddly shaped but it was still a pear.”

“A very tasty pear,” added Mick.

Jax gave him a look of disgust. “I still can’t believe you ate it.”

“Free food,” Mick said with a shrug.

“You’re lucky that thing didn’t kill you!”

Martin nodded. “Proving once again that Mr. Rory’s superpower is in fact his digestive system.”

“Guys,” said Sara, giving them a warning look.

The team obediently quietened down.

Going up to the front door, Sara raised her hand and knocked. A stone shack in the middle of the woods was not where she had expected to find John Constantine but she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. A creepy old mansion?

After a moment or two, the large wooden door opened with a creak revealing the very man they’d been searching for. 

Constantine looked exactly like he had when Sara had last seen him, same blond hair and weighted eyes, same tan trench coat and badly tied tie. He didn’t seem that surprised to see them, but given his abilities, he may very well have known they were coming.

“Sara Lance,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and leaning casually against the door frame. “How’s the soul? Still in residence I hope.”

“It’s fine,” Sara said, deciding to cut the small talk and get straight to the point. “We need your help.”

A smirk spread across Constantine’s face. “Oh, you know I’ll do anything for a pretty lady.”

Sara rolled her eyes. She hadn’t had much chance to get to know Constantine when they'd first met but now she was already starting to understand why Rip had been so reluctant to ask for his help. “Our problem is, well...” She gestured to the cat on her shoulder.

Constantine raised his eyebrows. “I’d love to help, love, but I’m no vet.”

“It’s not a cat,” Sara tried to explain. “It’s—”

Constantine held up a hand. “I know. I know,” he said. “I was joking. I wouldn’t be much of a warlock if I couldn’t recognize a person under an enchantment when I saw them.” 

He took a step closer and peered at the orange cat, head tilted thoughtfully to the side. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and a large grin appeared on his face. 

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Captain Rip Bleeding Hunter. How you doing, mate? You’re looking a mite different from the last time I saw you. Have you lost weight? 

Rip’s grip tightened rather painfully on Sara’s shoulder, claws digging in as his tail swished back and forth.

“The fur suits you.”

Rip began to growl.

“Watch it,” said Sara, giving the cat a poke. “We need his help, remember?”

The growling stopped and the claws thankfully retracted. 

Constantine let out a chuckle. “I guess you lot had better come inside.”

The inside of the mill house was dimly lit and surprisingly large. In a way, it reminded Sara a bit of Rip’s parlour. Like the parlour, it was filled with lots of books and maps and old fashioned knickknacks. Only Constantine’s stuff was ten times dustier and ten times creepier. The place smelled of old wood and incense and just slightly of sulphur. 

They gathered in the centre of the large main room near a lit fireplace.

“You’re certainly a motley crew,” John said, once a round of introductions had been made. “How’d you lot end up with a wanker like Rip Hunter?

“It’s a long story,” said Sara.

“Guy recruited us to waste the guy who wasted his family,” Mick said, bluntly.

Sara sighed. “Okay, not that long.”

“Someone took out his family?” John raised his eyebrows in surprise, all amusement for once gone from his expression. He gave Rip a sympathetic look. “Sorry to hear that, mate.”

Rip, who had vacated Sara’s shoulder and sat himself down on a nearby table, made no response other than to wrap his tail around himself. 

“I hope you got the bastard,” John said.

“We did,” Sara assured him.

“And we stuck around afterwards to help Rip out with.. uh... some other stuff,” Ray put in vaguely. None of them were entirely sure how much of the time travel part of Rip’s life Constantine actually knew.

John let out a snort. “You stayed with him willingly?” 

“He’s our friend,” Jax insisted.

“More yours than mine, mate,” said John.

“I take it the two of you don’t get along,” Martin observed. “Odd considering how much you have in common. You’re both British. You both have a penchant for collecting odd artifacts and wearing long brown coats.”

“You’re both dicks,” Mick couldn’t help adding.

Constantine gave a smile, half smirk and half grimace. “Let’s just say we tend to rub each other the wrong way. Bloke’s got his heart in the right place but he’s got to learn to take that stick out of his ass every once and awhile.”

There was a yowl from Rip.

“Yes, you do,” said John, pointing at the cat, “and for the last time it wasn’t my fault that place burnt down. You’re the one who insisted on interfering.”

Rip meowed again.

“How was I supposed to know that orb wouldn’t work?”

Ray gazed incredulously from man to cat and back again. “Don’t tell me you speak cat too?”

Constantine shook his head. “Nah, it’s just the same damn argument we have every time we run into each other.”

“How did you two meet anyway?” Jax asked.

“Now that definitely is a long story,” said John, “and one best saved for another time.” He gestured to Rip who was still glaring at him. “I take it you want me to return the captain to his former self?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” said Martin.

“Are you sure? I mean he wasn’t a bad looking bloke but he makes an absolutely adorable cat.”

Sara rubbed tiredly at her forehead starting to wish they’d paid attention to Rip’s howls of protest and found themselves a different sorcerer. “Would you just fix him?” To emphasize the point, she placed her hands on her hips and sent Constantine one of her best league of assassin glares.

John held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to get your knickers in a twist. I’ll do it, but you lot are going to owe me a favour. You too, Kitty Cat,” he added, nodding to Rip.

Rip did not look very happy about the idea.

“Before I begin though,” John continued, “would one of you mind explaining exactly how Captain Hunter here ended up this way? I hate to work blind.”

Martin immediately grew sheepish. “I’m afraid it was my doing, Mr. Constantine. A rather unfortunate accident involving this.” He produced the statuette. He had been carrying it wrapped inside a cloth. No one had wanted to touch the thing with their bare hands since the incident. “It’s an ancient Egyptian statue dedicated to the goddess Bastet. I, uh”—Martin cleared his throat—“inadvertently triggered something while examining it.”

“An ancient Egyptian curse.” John shook his head as he took the statue from Martin. “Classic. Well, it shouldn’t take too much to shift it. Let me gather a few things and we can get started.”

The team waited while Constantine got what he needed, Mick and Sara helping themselves to John’s scotch, Ray and Martin examining the many mystical artifacts while Jax made sure neither of them actually touched anything. The last thing they needed was another cursed teammate. Rip simply curled up on the couch in front of the fire and had a nap, his cat side taking dominance once again.

When John had everything, he returned, and rolling up his sleeves, got to work. The first thing he did was use some chalk to draw a pattern of symbols on the ground, some recognizable as Egyptian hieroglyphs, some not. He then dusted the symbols with sand.

“Straight from a pharaoh's tomb that is,” he explained as the others watched with fascination. “Most Egyptian curses tend to get placed on tombs so your little statue here probably belonged in one once upon a time, not too surprising considering how much they worshipped the little flea bags.” 

He placed the statue in the middle of the symbols shifting it several times to ensure the position was just right. 

“Now where’s that cat got to?”

Jax pointed out where Rip lay still asleep on the couch.

Constantine snorted when he saw the round ball of fur. “I think I prefer him like this. Are you sure this is what you want? Last chance to change your minds.”

Sara gave him an unimpressed look.

John rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Going over, he picked up the cat who gave a startled mew at the rude awakening. “Easy now. Time to turn you back into the weedy little wanker you used to be.” He placed the indignant cat down next to the statue. “Stay.”

Rip narrowed his eyes at him and then set about licking his ruffled fur.

“So what exactly are you going to do?” asked Ray.

“It’s simple,” said John, picking up a feather in one hand and a lighter in the other. “When your professor here triggered the curse, it shifted the spirit of the cat from the statue onto Rip so now I’m going to shift it back again.”

“Fascinating,” exclaimed Martin. “How do you propose to do that?”

“By burning an ibis feather, waving it about, and saying a few pretty words,” John said with a smirk. “I could go into more technical detail but I really don’t think your friends are in the mood for a lecture.”

“Got that right,” said Mick who was slumped in a chair and already looking decidedly bored.

“So after you do this Rip will be back to normal?” asked Sara.

Constantine made a face. “Well, mostly.”

Sara’s voice dropped a few degrees. “What do you mean mostly?”

“Oh, there might be a few lingering side effects, a tendency to want to curl up in front of a roaring fire, chase pieces of string, and so on, but it’s nothing to worry about. They should fade, eventually.”

Sara wanted to know exactly what he meant by eventually but Constantine was already lighting the feather and beginning to chant.

The language John spoke wasn’t one any of them recognized. It was deep and guttural but also oddly rhythmic. Each word was uttered with passion and conviction and echoed throughout the entire room. While he chanted, he waved the smoking feather about making various patterns in the air.

Gathered around the edges of the markings on the floor, the Legends watched the whole performance with rapt attention as an energy built around them and filled the room.

John’s voice grew louder and louder, his movements faster and faster until with one final flourish he stopped, the feather pointed at Rip, his final words echoing off the walls.

Everyone stared at the cat waiting for something to happen.

After several moments, they were still waiting.

They exchanged looks.

“Um...” Jax said. “Was that it?”

“Guess this means we’re keeping the cat,” said Mick.

Sara's angry stare was intimidating enough to make even John wince.

“Give it a minute,” he said, a touch less confidence in his voice than before.

Another moment passed. 

The cat continued to sit in the middle of the chalked symbols, scowling at Constantine, its tail whipping back and forth.

Then suddenly a breeze began inside the room, a gust of wind brushing passed them. It picked the scattered sand up off the floor and began twirling it in a mini whirlwind around and around Rip and the statue until the two were completely obscured from view.

The team took a step back shielding their faces from the spontaneous dust devil.

A cat’s yowl began from somewhere inside the whirlwind but it slowly morphed becoming something much deeper and much more human.

“One of you might want to grab a blanket,” John called out over the sound of the wind, pointing at one draped over a nearby chair.

Eyebrows knitting together, Ray obediently picked up the blanket. “What do we need this for?”

Constantine gave a crooked smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

It was over fairly quickly. The wind abruptly stopped sending all the sand cascading to the floor and revealing Rip.

To everyone’s relief, the captain was standing on his own two feet, finally human once more.

To everyone’s shock, he was also completely and utterly naked.

Sara raised an eyebrow as she took in the sight.

“Uh.” Jax let out an awkward cough. 

Mick gave a snort.

Martin said “Oh, dear,” and covered his eyes.

Ray, now a rather bright shade of red, quickly threw the blanket at Rip.

Rip, his ears tinged pink, wrapped the blanket around himself as he glared at Constantine. “A little warning might have been nice.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” said John, grinning smugly.

“Fun?” said Rip, raising his eyebrows. “Unlike you, some of us don’t enjoy appearing starkers in front of everyone!”

Some giggling came from the direction of the Legends, but by the time Rip had swung around to glower at them, the culprit had already composed themselves.

“What’s the big deal?” said Mick. “We saw all sorts of stuff when you were a cat. I even saw you...”

“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Rory,” Rip quickly interrupted. “I’d prefer it if you were to not mention that. In fact, I think it would be best if no one mentions anything about this whole incident ever again.”

A smile spread across Sara’s face. “He’s back.”

“He sure is,” agreed Jax, nodding.

Ray patted Rip on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you as, uh, you again.”

“Yes,” said Martin. “We really must thank you, Mr. Constantine, for returning our captain to his usual self.”

“Oh, it was no trouble,” said John. “No trouble at all.” His expression was full of self-satisfied smugness.

“Uh, yes,” Rip said with great reluctance. “I suppose thanks are in order.”

John waved a hand in the air. “No thanks needed,” he said, and raising a finger, added, “That favour you owe me however...”

Rip’s shoulders sagged.

John grinned. “I’ll be looking forward to calling that in real soon.”

“Whenever’s convenient,” Rip replied through gritted teeth. “At the moment, we really must be going. We’ve wasted far too much time on this as is and I...” 

He turned to leave but then stopped. His gaze went from the blanket still wrapped around him to the ceiling. He let out a world-weary sigh. 

Turning back around, he said, “I don’t suppose you have a spare set of clothes you could lend me.”

Constantine slapped him on the back. “No problem, Kitty Cat. I’ve got just the thing.”

Several minutes later, after they'd said their goodbyes and John had cheerfully warned them to keep Rip away from any catnip, the Legends left the mill house, their captain wearing sneakers, a jean jacket, a pair of trousers that were much too big for him, and a T-shirt that said ‘The Clash’ on the front in violent red lettering. He was also muttering numerous curses under his breath.

“You know,” Ray said to Rip as they made their way back to the Waverider, “I’m glad you’re back to normal but I am going to miss cat you.”

“You were a lot cuddlier as a cat,” Sara said, teasingly.

Rip scowled at her. “That was the spell.”

“Hey. Why don’t we get a new cat?” Jax suggested.

Ray’s eyes lit up. “That would be awesome. He could be our mascot.”

“Might as well do something with all that cat crap left over,” said Mick.

Martin nodded. “Having a pet onboard could be good for morale.”

“No, no, no, no,” said Rip, holding up his hands in protest. “We are not getting a cat.”

Unfortunately, the team, as they tended to do, ignored him and immediately began arguing over what type of cat to get.

Rip let out a tired groan.

Sara went over to him and looped an arm through his. “So how’s it feel to be human again?”

“A bit odd though that may be partly due to these clothes,” he said, gazing sullenly at his new apparel. “It is however a great relief to no longer be wearing fur.”

“Aww. I liked that fur. It was nice and soft.” Sara stroked a hand down the back of his head. 

His glare, identical to the one he had worn as a cat, only made her laugh. 

“Come on,” she said “We’ll have a drink when we get back and you can tell me exactly how you me John Constantine.”

“It had better be a very stiff drink,” Rip replied.

Sara grinned and the two continued arm in arm while ahead of them the Legends debated what to name their new cat.


End file.
